


tomorrow and all the time

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Cats, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pets, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “Wow, she usually doesn’t like strangers that much,” Jack remarks laughingly as Sammy quite literally coos at Lemon, petting behind her ears. Lemon makes a curious noise as she nuzzles Sammy’s hand, as if maybe he has a particularly good smell about him.“She’s so cute,” Sammy leans down to kiss the top of her head. Oh, God, that’s unfairly adorable of him. “Aren’t you, Lemonade?”“Just Lemon,” Jack corrects, but he’s laughing all the same.





	tomorrow and all the time

**Author's Note:**

> Listen....Sammy Stevens canonically loves cats so much. I don't need any more justification for this.

“Yeah, it’s really not bad for a one-bedroom, price-wise, and decent space, too. I needed room for the litterbox and didn’t really want that to be out in the world in a studio –”

“You have a cat?” Sammy cuts Jack off, and his previous expression of mild interest turns to one of barely contained excitement.

“Oh, Jesus,” Lily mutters from the opposite end of the room, where she’s leaning against the fridge. She rolls her eyes at Sammy, who rolls his right back even harder to the point where Jack’s a bit concerned that it’d been painful for his retinas.

“Shut up, I like cats,” Sammy glares at Lily, but the glare disintegrates when he turns back to Jack, very nearly beaming. He’s cute when he smiles, dimples in the corners of his cheeks.

“Yeah, I found her on the side of the road back when I was in college,” Jack frowns at the recollection, remembering how tangled and knotted her fur had been, and how afraid she was when Jack touched her. “She was probably a stray before that, she hadn’t been declawed or anything. But I took her to the vet and got her cleaned up.”

Sammy’s expression turns into one of wide-eyed concern, mouth half-open. He even makes an _aww_ noise.

“Here, I’ll introduce you,” Jack laughs a little at Sammy’s wide eyes, and he crosses the kitchen to call into the hallway. “Lemon? Lemon, are you hiding?”

“Lemon’s the dumbest fucking name for a cat,” Jack hears Lily tell Sammy behind his back, but he concerns himself with peeking into the bathroom to see if he can find her. She hides when new people come over, and even though she’s met Lily a handful of times since Jack’s moved to town, she hasn’t met Sammy yet.

Jack only met Sammy six months ago, and this is the first time Sammy’s been over to his place, whether it was this new one or the sublet he’d gotten when he first moved to Tampa. Jack’s trying to suppress the feeling that this is some sort of important milestone in their relationship, because even though he and Sammy are friends, they’re both closer to Lily than each other. 

Even if Jack would like to be closer to Sammy, he’s not going to analyze that right now. He has to find Lemon, after all.

He finally catches sight of her fuzzy black tail swishing from behind Jack’s dresser, and he pulls her out with practiced ease. Jack moved into this apartment three weeks ago, and this is already her favorite hiding place.

“C’mon,” Jack whispers, stroking her back. “Come say hi.”

He tries to pick her up, but Lemon darts out of the room before he can, a black burst in the corner of his eye. Oh, well. There are only so many places she can run off to, and Jack already shut the bathroom door.

He follows her out into the kitchen just in time to hear Sammy gasp, surprised but also sort of delighted. When Jack rounds the corner back into the kitchen, he finds Sammy sitting cross-legged on the floor with Lemon in his lap.

“Wow, she usually doesn’t like strangers that much,” Jack remarks laughingly as Sammy quite literally coos at Lemon, petting behind her ears. Lemon makes a curious noise as she nuzzles Sammy’s hand, as if maybe he has a particularly good smell about him.

“She’s _so_ cute,” Sammy leans down to kiss the top of her head. Oh, God, that’s unfairly adorable of him. “Aren’t you, Lemonade?”

“Just Lemon,” Jack corrects, but he’s laughing all the same.

“You’re literally so gay right now,” Lily informs Sammy in the driest of tones from where she’s moved to sit at Jack’s small, three-person kitchen table. “Like, this is the gayest you’ve ever sounded. And looked. And acted.”

Jack rubs the back of his neck a little uncomfortably, and he can’t miss Sammy’s hurt scowl in Lily’s direction.

“Shut up,” Sammy mumbles, and Jack can see the blush on his cheeks. Well, it’s not like Jack didn’t already know about that particularly well-kept secret, at the very least. Not that Sammy’s told him or anything – or that Jack’s told Sammy about his own twin secret – but Lily keeps each of them informed of the other’s various classified information. Well, mainly just as it concerns being gay. 

“Well, I don’t think Lemon cares as long as you keep petting her,” Jack tries to keep his voice upbeat, and Sammy shoots him a grateful smile. “Also, I’m pretty sure cat lady is the lesbian stereotype, Lily.”

“Which is why I have a dog,” Lily fills in, mock toasting them with her beer. “Also, Teddy is a much better pet name than _Lemon._ Also a gay name, by the way, Jack.”

“My cat is gay,” Jack tells her, and Sammy snorts as if in spite of himself. “She’s a better lesbian than you.”

“Lemon poppy seed,” Sammy whispers to Lemon as he strokes one of her feet. She purrs up at him loud enough for Jack to hear. Jack isn’t going to swoon at his cat immediately taking to Sammy. He isn’t.

Lily rolls her eyes again, and Jack’s certain they’re going to fall out one of these days. “ _Jesus_. You guys.”

Sammy doesn’t leave the floor for the whole two hours he and Lily spend at Jack’s apartment that night, too busy playing with Lemon’s various-colored strings with her. Lily leaves first, with a smug look in their direction that Jack ignores.

When Sammy finally goes, it’s with a disappointed expression and another kiss on top of Lemon’s head. He looks at Jack with a vaguely guilty expression that Jack isn’t sure how to read, but is sure is reflected in his own expression since he just thought about how nice it would be if Sammy kissed him goodbye, too.

His brain doesn’t need to go there. Sammy’s his friend, coworker, and also his sister’s best friend. A terrible combination for anything else to happen.

“She’s a really good cat,” Sammy says, all earnestness, as he moves toward the doorway with a bit of reluctance. Lemon’s still curled up in her bed next to the TV, but she’s watching Sammy with her bright luminous eyes.

“You can come see her whenever you want,” Jack says before he can stop himself. He’d regret it if Sammy didn’t light up instantly.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Jack laughs, not able to help being a little pleased by how thrilled Sammy looks. “You live like, fifteen minutes from here. Plus, she likes you. She didn’t let Lily be in the same room as her the first time they met.”

“Okay,” Sammy’s smile isn’t subdued, but it’s small, maybe a little embarrassed. Jack’s not sure what he could have to be embarrassed about. Jack likes pretty much everything about Sammy, and that Sammy really loves cats is basically just icing on that cake. “I….maybe I will.”

“Just come by after work sometime,” Jack says, heart beating a little too loudly for what should be a conversation. “I promise, she’ll be here. And, um – so will I. Obviously. So you will have to share a portion of her attention…”

He and Sammy both laugh, a little high-pitched and awkward, or at least Jack’s laugh is.

“Alright,” Sammy’s voice is soft. “Um, night, Jack. Night, Lemon Grass.”

“ _Lemon_ ,” Jack corrects, already knowing it’s a losing battle.

* * *

Sammy spoils Lemon _rotten._

Jack’s not even sure how it happens, but suddenly Sammy has a new toy for Lemon every week. Jack doesn’t know where he _finds_ half the stuff, but soon there’s a corner in Jack’s apartment dedicated to the slow piling up of various stuffed animals shaped like mice.

Eventually, Sammy just fucking buys a crate to put the toys in.

Jack’s not going to put a stop to it, because Lemon is clearly thrilled with her new toy kingdom. The only thing she hasn’t liked is the little sweater Sammy bought. The only time she’s ever hissed at him is when he tried to wrangle her into a green and yellow striped one.

“Not her colors,” Jack had said jokingly, and Sammy had blushed but laughed all the same.

Jack’s also not going to put a stop to it because it means Sammy’s sort of just….always around. Usually playing with his cat, but Jack will take it if it means that Sammy’s at his place two or three times a week. They’ve made dinner together a few times now. Sammy helped him move some furniture. They’ve started watching Smallville together and Sammy likes to tell him he looks like Tom Welling.

Whatever. Jack’s not going to put a stop to it. He knows that Lemon is the primary reason Sammy likes spending time with Jack outside of work. That the two of them get along is just a bonus.

“Jack, I’m looking for vegetables in your fridge and I don’t see any,” Sammy says when he’s over one night after bringing Lemon her very own tiny kangaroo, which Lemon is currently examining scrupulously in the living room.

“You can’t feed my cat vegetables,” Jack says helpfully from where he’s got his laptop and notebook open, half working on a line-up for next week’s show and half skimming an article about Mothman sightings.

“They’re not for Lemon Meringue, they’re for you,” Sammy shuts the fridge door, and Jack realizes a second too late that his expression is one of serious knotted eyebrows. “Seriously, when’s the last time you went grocery shopping?”

“I just forget sometimes,” Jack says quickly, knowing that Sammy’s over here often enough that lying won’t do anything for him. “Don’t worry about it – I buy cat food in bulk, so Lemon never has to suffer from my hubris in thinking I’ll be fine with just one loaf of bread for two weeks.”

“Jack,” Sammy frowns at him, very nearly severe.

Jack feels his hands tighten up a little as a wave of discomfort goes through him. “Sammy, seriously, don’t make that face at me. I’ll get more tomorrow, alright?”

“Can I come with you?”

Jack pauses, not quite sure how he’s feeling. Embarrassed, mostly. “Um. Sure, I guess.”

Sammy seems to realize he’s touching a sore spot, his eye contact getting a little less intense as he scuffs his shoes against the kitchen floor. “Sorry for being – y’know, overbearing. It’s just that someone who works out as much as you do should really eat more.”

“No, you’re right,” Jack says, knowing that there’s a point here, and also that Sammy’s making it in a mostly empathetic way, and Jack actually sort of appreciates the clumsiness in how he’s doing it. Means it clearly wasn’t planned. “I – I’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“Alright, then I’m ordering pizza tonight – with lots of vegetables.”

“I like vegetables,” Jack argues back, smiling slightly. “I just – you know – forget about them sometimes.”

“Can I remind you every once in a while?” Sammy asks, not moving toward the phone quite yet. His tone is light, but the way he’s holding himself, still a little tense and almost like he’s prepping himself for a response….

“Yeah,” Jack finds himself saying. “Yeah, you can remind me.”

Sammy’s small smile turns into a beam, the kind of blinding white that only happens when Lemon rolls over when Sammy asks her to or when Lily embarrasses herself in public.

Alright, so maybe Sammy’s not over here _just_ to spoil Jack’s cat.

Maybe.

-

Sammy and Jack fall into a routine of regularly watching movies together. Sometimes with Lily, sometimes without, though when she’s there she has more than a few mocking comments for each of them and sometimes both of them at the same time.

They’re solidly in the position of being just as good of friends with each other as either of them are with Lily, which is – well, it’s not a bad place to be, but it’s a bit of a scary place to be because Jack knows Sammy’s gay and he assumes Sammy knows he’s gay, but it’s something they’ve never discussed.

Up until when they’re watching the new Will Smith movie, sharing a bowl of popcorn where their hands brush once in a while, Lemon purring contentedly between them.

And Sammy puts his head on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack’s breath comes out in unsteady puffs as he tries to think about what this means, because Sammy’s not the kind of guy who would just do that. He’s not very tactile with anyone who isn’t a small black kitty, and he knows both from Lily’s gossiping and Sammy’s constant paranoia that Sammy doesn’t want anyone, ever, to know that he’s gay and it’s basically only because Jack’s also gay that he’s okay with him having any awareness of his sexuality.

“Sammy –” Jack’s voice comes out strangled. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, break the magic, but he can’t just let it sit still without comment.

“Yeah?” Sammy looks up at him, wide blue eyes that reflect some part of the terror in Jack’s but also a surprising amount of softness, too. “Sorry, I just – you were right there, and Lemon Drop was trying to lay on both of us at the same time, and – and I just wanted –”

Jack leans down and kisses Sammy before he can stop himself, bringing a shaking hand to rest on the side of Sammy’s cheek. Sammy makes a surprised noise, but folds into the kiss almost instantly, twisting his neck to get at a better angle.

They break apart, and Jack starts giggling before he can help it. Sammy smiles back, though the anxiety in his expression is palpable between them.

“Sorry, I just –” Jack shrugs, trying to play this as cool as he can, which isn’t very cool at all. “I never thought that would actually happen.”

“Oh,” Sammy turns a little pink, but his smile doesn’t go away. “I – me neither, really. I mean, you’re just, you’re so –”

“I’m so?” Jack can’t help but laugh. “Sammy, you’re – so great, and I’m –”

“The best person ever,” Sammy fills in and now it’s Jack’s turn to blush. “I mean, Jesus, I came over here three times a week, I thought you’d probably be sick of me by now –”

“I thought you were just coming to see Lemon, honestly.”

Sammy laughs, short and bright. “I mean. I was. But also – you. It was a good excuse.”

Jack has to lean in and kiss the embarrassment off of his face, and Sammy seems to be plenty into that if the way he slides his tongue into Jack’s mouth is anything to go by. Jack tries not to moan as he pushes Sammy in the other direction –

Lemon, from between them lets out a disgruntled _mrow!_ and promptly jumps off of the couch.

“I think we’re being judged,” Jack murmurs into Sammy’s mouth, and Sammy laughs against him with his whole body. God, Jack could get used to it.

“Better Lemon Bread than Lily – at least cats can’t _talk_.”

* * *

“Hey, quick question – why am I sharing you with my _cat_?”

Jack had been very peacefully letting Sammy run his hands through his hair while he lays on Sammy’s chest, still wet from the shower he’d taken after his rugby match that day. Sammy’s never played an organized sport in his life, despite what he pretends on the radio, but he’s getting much more into rugby the more he comes to Jack’s games.

Sammy’s generally much more into the hair-petting portion of the day, though, or at least he was until Lemon came into the bedroom and curled up next to Sammy’s hip. Now Jack has to contend with the fact that he only gets one hand while his cat is purring contentedly with half of Sammy’s attention.

“Because she’s been very good and patient,” Sammy coos, clearly in Lemon’s direction and not Jack’s. “Haven’t you, Lemon Breaded Chicken?”

“Your nicknames get worse every day,” Jack groans, but he hides his smile in Sammy’s shirt.

“She’s got a check-up appointment next week, right?” Sammy says. “Do you want me to take her? I’ve gotta be on that side of town anyway to pick up a prescription.”

“Oh,” Jack shifts on top of Sammy, not uncomfortable, but just a little on edge. Not in a bad way, just in a way that he’s not entirely familiar with. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s okay, I want to,” Sammy says, completely earnest in the way Jack gets to see from him all the time, these days.

Because he sees Sammy _all the time_ , these days. As far as he knows, Sammy still has his own apartment, but Jack also can’t exactly remember the last time Sammy didn’t spend the night here. His room is strewn with Sammy’s various possessions, and Jack’s pretty sure the only reason their wardrobes haven’t entirely merged is because Jack’s a size larger than Sammy for most clothes other than t-shirts.

“Do you live here now?” Jack decides he may as well be candid, and Sammy tenses beneath him, and his hand stops moving through the hairs on the back of Jack’s neck.

“I…um…”

Jack can literally feel Sammy’s body heat up beneath him, and not in a sexy way.

Jack cranes his neck up to look Sammy in the eye. Sammy’s eyes are steadfastly directed at the ceiling, his cheeks overly pink, and Jack kisses Sammy’s jaw to stop himself from getting too overcome with affection.

“I wasn’t saying that to be a dick, I was genuinely asking. And – and offering, too. Do you want to live here? Because you can.”

That gets a smile out of Sammy, even if it is a small, soft, helpless one. He does look at Jack finally, blue eyes a little wider than usual. His voice cracks when he says “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Then please move in with me,” Jack kisses him on the mouth this time. “Lemon can be your cat, too, if you want – I mean, she can stay mine even though you live here – but I thought, with as much as you take care of her – you don’t have to, though, I can still do the litterbox cleaning and all the rest –”

“Shut up,” Sammy lifts his head up to kiss Jack back, just for a second. “No offense, but she’s _already_ my cat. I mean, I didn’t rescue her from the side of the road like a certain Prince Charming I could mention…”

Jack snorts, hitting Sammy’s shoulder to get him to stop. Lemon meows at them when Sammy starts calling her Lemon Lime Gatorade, and then climbs up and starts stepping all over their legs as if to say _my turn for attention now._

Jack feels pretty lucky.

* * *

“So I was reading online about the options for homemade cat food, since Lemon Cheesecake hates the grocery store kibble so much. I really don’t think it’ll be that hard for me to make – I found a chicken and veggies recipe that seems really easy, just as easy as human food –”

“You’re gonna make her gourmet?” Jack looks up from his book to find Sammy perched on the edge of the couch, holding Lemon close to his chest as she bats at his hair. It’s getting a little long, and even though Lemon and Jack are both fans, Jack knows it’s only a few days before Sammy gets insecure and cuts it all off again. “God, you’re such a spoiled kitty, Lemon.”

“She’s a well taken care of kitty,” Sammy frowns at Jack heavily, but he’s teasing just as much as Jack is. “And it’s not that weird. Lily feeds Teddy human food all the time, and cats deserve treats just as much as dogs.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that,” Jack laughs, reaching over to scratch Lemon behind the ears. “Seriously though, she’ll never eat kibble again if you start prepping all of her meals for her.”

“She doesn’t _have_ to eat kibble again, that’s the point,” Sammy kisses the top of her head, and Lemon gives Jack a look like _see what I can make him do?_

“Baby, you’re the sweetest,” Jack pats Sammy’s arm, wishing that he wasn’t about to say something he knew would make Sammy upset. “….but you know that I can barely make my own meals most of the time, let alone separate cat meals.”

“That’s why I’m making the cat meals, Jack,” Sammy says in a slow voice, but not a condescending or demeaning one. “And most of your meals, too. Don’t make that face – I like doing it. I like cooking for you. It makes me feel like a good boyfriend when I’m usually so shit at it.”

“You’re not shit at it,” Jack promises, meaning it with all his heart. “You’re the best boyfriend in the world. But – you might, you know, decide you’re sick of me one of these days, and then Lemon will refuse to eat her kibble, and then where will she be?”

Jack says most of that very fast, looking at his laptop instead of at Sammy’s face. He hears Sammy’s breath intake sharply, just for half a second.

And then Lemon’s on the ground, yelping at the sudden change in altitude, and Sammy throws both of his arms around Jack’s shoulder.

“Oh, stop, I didn’t mean I think you’re leaving me,” Jack says, squirming slightly so he can hug Sammy back properly. “I’m just saying that I’m well-aware that I’m not the easiest person in the world to deal with on a day to day basis. Even my own sister has refused to live with me, and you’ve done a great job this year with putting up with my various late night research projects and inability to remember where I put anything but…”

“Jack,” Sammy’s voice is muffled in Jack’s shoulder, but Jack doesn’t miss the emotion. “I’m never leaving. Ever. Okay? I will _always_ be here to make Lemon her own meals.”

Jack understands the subtext there about him too, and mentally thanks Sammy for skipping that part verbally.

Sammy’s not done, unfortunately, even when Jack whispers back that yes, he knows, it’s alright, he can let go now.

“I hate everyone that’s ever made you feel like you’re a burden,” Sammy says into Jack’s neck, squeezing tighter. “You’re not, alright? I love being the person who makes you dinner. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, not quite internalizing it, but – well, he’s getting there. “And for the record, I hate everyone that’s ever made you feel like you’re inadequate.”

They stay wrapped up in each other for more than a few seconds after that, and Jack can feel Sammy shudder, trying not to cry.

Jack squeezes him even tighter.

* * *

Sammy’s very concerned about Lemon on their drive to California.

Their whole apartment is packed in Jack’s shitty Jeep – they sold Sammy’s car for the gas money, and may or may not find him a new one when they get to Los Angeles.

Lily’s not speaking to them, and though Sammy remains hopeful that she’ll call to make sure they got to LA safely, Jack’s not holding out any hope.

There had been a few screaming matches that Jack made sure Sammy hadn’t had to witness. Lily had said one too many unpleasant things about him, and Sammy’s self-esteem is already shaky enough on the best of days.

Sammy’s funneling his stress into making the move as easy as possible for Lemon, who doesn’t quite understand why the apartment is so empty, but is a big fan of the boxes she can play in.

“It’s just a couple days on the road,” Sammy tells Lemon when they’re about to leave, trying to coax her into her carrier. Lemon hates the carrier, for obvious cat-like reasons. “Then we’re gonna have a new place, alright? I promise you’ll like it.”

“And he tells me I believe in mumbo-jumbo fairytales as he explains moving to a cat,” Jack remarks lightly, trying not to make a big deal out of this, from where he’s holding the last three boxes. Sammy shoots him a mock-annoyed look that Jack doesn’t believe.

Lemon, as anticipated, just gives the carrier a disdainful look, and Sammy tries for five more minutes before losing patience and shoving Lemon inside. Carefully, though. Careful shoving.

It doesn’t stop Lemon from hissing at him, though.

“Sorry Lemon Margarita,” Sammy whispers through the soft, breathable felt openings in the carrier.

Lemon hisses again.

They’re in the car before Sammy extradites her from the carrier, about an hour outside of Tampa. Thirty-four more to go.

Lemon’s turned from hissing into disgruntled meowing, and Sammy smooths her fur back as Jack turns down the radio.

“She’ll be fine, the treats are in the backpack if she gets antsy,” Jack reaches over to pat Lemon’s head a few times while still keeping his eyes on the road. “Don’t give them all to her in the first twelve hours, though. I know your ways, Stevens.”

“She’s upset,” Sammy says, a little annoyed though Jack can tell that the annoyance is more with the world for having distances that are far apart than anyone in this car, human or animal.

“How could she be upset when you cater to her every whim?” Jack teases, but it doesn’t stop Sammy from frowning.

It’s a long drive, both physically and mentally. Jack and Sammy don’t argue, but tensions are high. They don’t have jobs lined up yet, only an interview with a station with a reputation that Lily had turned her nose up at – which was what started this whole thing off in the first place.

Jack can’t think about that or he’ll be just as upset as Sammy seems to think Lemon is, though Jack’s relatively certain that’s mostly projection.

Their apartment in Los Angeles looks mostly like their apartment in Florida, but they’d made sure to get two bedrooms this time. Just in case someone asked too many questions. They get all of their boxes in the night they arrive, but they unpack nothing except for the mattress pad.

The mattress pad and a box of toys for Lemon, of course.

Lemon loves the wide open space, and happily chases the laser pointer as Sammy points it at the wall for her, and that finally gets a smile out of his boyfriend. Jack rubs his shoulders while he plays with her, and that seems to help him relax, too.

“Do you think she likes it here?” Sammy says after they’ve turned the lights off. He’d molded into Jack’s side almost immediately, and Jack gathers him up in his arms as best he can. He knows how hard today’s been, for Sammy much more so than Lemon. “I mean, do you think she’ll be okay? That it’s not too big of an adjustment?”

“I think….” Jack hesitates, thinking of the best thing to say right now. He kisses the top of Sammy’s head to bide for time. “I think that Lemon is going to be just fine. And I think we will be, too. Just in case you were worried about that.”

Sammy kisses Jack’s jaw, and they both sleep fitfully that night, but – well, it’s an adjustment. They’ll be fine.

* * *

Lemon, for the record, likes Los Angeles just fine.

Somehow, they manage to close on a house less than a year later. Lemon loves having a little backyard to roam around in, after Sammy installed a cat gate to make sure she couldn’t run away like his dog did when he was a kid.

Her favorite thing to do is hiss at the birds.

* * *

Sammy and Jack are also mostly alright. They have a nice house, they make more money than either of them could’ve ever dreamed possible, and their jobs are –

Well, they’re on the radio together. That’s as best as can be said for that.

Jack thinks he’s able to separate it a little better in his mind – work is a persona, home is who he really is. Sammy struggles a bit more, takes too much of work home with him. Jack will call him out for it when he does, but that just makes Sammy miserable and guilty, two things Jack hates.

They’re working through it, though. It’s not the easiest gig in the world, but they still get to be together.

When Sammy has particularly rough days, he rarely wants to talk to Jack about it. Jack’s not offended, really, he just wishes there was a way that he could make those rough days better without words that Sammy wouldn’t listen to, anyway.

Sometimes, what Sammy needs is just to lie on the floor with Lemon on his chest and call her ridiculous names for an hour. Jack watches from the couch, not even pretending that he’s reading a book after a while. It’s cute, to watch Sammy poke at Lemon’s toes and see her bat at his hair. Sammy’s always in a better mood after that.

In those moments, Jack will think about what a good dad Sammy would be, and his heart races in his chest.

* * *

They know it’s going to happen soon, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Lemon starts peeing in the house, and that’s usually a warning sign. It’s not long before she’s throwing up too, and she’s lost half her weight. She was already a small cat, and now she’s sickly.

Jack schedules the day for it because he knows Sammy can’t, and they both take off of work without worrying how it will look to their bosses. Sammy makes her favorite meal, tuna, the night before, and she doesn’t throw that one up. She sits between them on the couch while they watch a movie without any pet death in it, and Jack tries not to cry and knows Sammy’s doing the same.

Sammy holds her, no carrier, in the passenger’s seat on the way to the vet. She was Jack’s cat first, but Jack knows perfectly well that she means the whole world to Sammy. Besides, Jack probably wouldn’t be able to contain himself if he was holding her.

Jack knows Sammy wants to be in the room – well, _want_ is the wrong word, but he knows that Sammy won’t be able to live with himself if he’s not there – and so they go in together.

Sammy sets Lemon on the table in the vet’s room, and strokes her fur back with one hand, and reaches out for Jack with the other.

They’ve only held hands in public a handful of times, and most of those had been in a dark movie theatre, or a park with no one else around.

Jack takes Sammy’s hand, and squeezes.

“Bye, Lemon Wedge,” Sammy whispers though a gruff voice, and Jack can’t help but giggle.

“No proper name after all these years?” Jack teases to distract from his teary eyes.

“Lily was right,” Sammy mutters, and Jack’s seized with more pain at the mention of his sister at a time like this. “Lemon’s such a dumb name for a cat, Jack.”

The vet comes in, and Jack leans over to pet his cat one last time, remembering how sad and scared she’d been when he’d found her – and what a happy life she’d lead since then, mostly thanks to Sammy and his endless collection of cat toys and gourmet cat meals.

There’s no good place to bury her, and though Jack would’ve taken her ashes, Sammy thinks that’s morbid as all hell. So they just take her collar when they leave – another gift from Sammy, back from before they’d even started dating. It says _Lemon Square_ in bubbly letters.

They keep holding hands even in the parking lot, and surprisingly Sammy doesn’t separate from him but leans in even further, like he’s asking for more.

Jack can’t deny him anything, and slips an arm around his shoulder, too. He can feel Sammy’s shoulders shake, and he kisses the side of Sammy’s head.

Sammy doesn’t pull away.

The radio plays in the car rather than either of them talking – a Top 40 music station, nothing from their own channel because there’s only so much pain one can take in a single day. Jack keeps a tight hold on Sammy’s hand the whole drive home.

The house is too empty, and Lemon’s toys are still strewn everywhere. Jack can’t go deal with them today, but tomorrow he’ll put them all in her box.

Today, he curls up on the couch next to his boyfriend and cries, both because he’s been holding it in and to show Sammy that it’s okay to let go now.

Sammy takes a few minutes, but when he starts he can’t stop. Jack rubs his back and whispers soothing words, but it’s hard to make this anything else than what it is. And what it is really, really sucks.

“Do you want a new cat?” Jack asks after an hour or so, and Sammy makes a noise of offense.

“Not replacing her just like that,” Sammy’s affront is apparent, and Jack chuckles fondly as he pats Sammy’s hair.

“Just in general, baby,” Jack says. “Not right now.”

“Oh,” Sammy relaxes a little, and hooks his chin firmly on Jack’s shoulder. “I….someday. It’s too quiet here without her and it’s only been a day.”

“We could get a dog, if that makes it easier,” Jack says, liking that idea, too. “We have a yard now, even if it’s a small one. You’ve always wanted a terrier.”

“Yeah, I have,” Sammy admits, his hand brushing the back of Jack’s neck. “We – we don’t have to decide today.”

“Of course not,” Jack reassures him. “We’ve still got, what, six months until Christmas? That’d be a good time for a new pet.”

He can feel Sammy smile even though he can’t see him.

“We could also…” Jack can feel his throat get dry. “Don’t freak out, I’m not saying it has to be anytime soon. But maybe we could start talking about…about a baby? The steps we’d need to take, adoption paperwork…you know, that sort of thing.”

He can feel Sammy go still, and Jack’s suddenly glad he can’t see Sammy’s face, that his boyfriend will have a few seconds to work this out in his head before Jack has to hear his initial reaction. Which could be good or bad, Jack has no idea. He knows they both want kids, someday, but they’re still young, and very much in the closet, and Sammy’s –

“Yeah,” Sammy whispers, voice hoarse but also…..also with a level of excitement that Jack doesn’t think he’s heard in a long time. “Yeah, I – we should. We should….talk about that. Soon.”

“Okay,” a giddy laugh escapes Jack before he can help it, and he hugs Sammy all the tighter to him. “Soon.”

* * *

Soon is a relative word.

Well, actually, it’s not relative at all. Soon ends up being not soon at all by anyone’s definition, not for Sammy and _certainly_ not for Jack, who’s in too much pain to think straight for nearly five years, five years where all he has are a few scattered memories of promises he made to Sammy that he never got to follow through on.

For some reason, Sammy’s there when he wakes up at the hospital. Lily, too. Both the first two people and last two people he thought he’d ever see again. Lily throws her arms around him the second he blinks himself awake, sobbing and swearing at him to never do that again.

Sammy’s more subdued, but he lays his head on Jack’s chest and cries, tells him that he loves him over and over again and until Jack finally manages to rasp out that he loves him, too.

There’s another guy in the room that Sammy introduces as Ben, and Jack can’t process much right now but he’s just glad Sammy hadn’t been entirely alone while Jack was…..was _there._

“Five years?” Jack whispers when Lily tells him, her head on his shoulder. His hospital bed isn’t large, but Lily and Sammy are curled around either side of him, both nearly falling off the edge. Ben’s in the chair that Sammy vacated, and it’s him that Jack directs the question to because he doesn’t want to burden Lily or Sammy any more.

“Yeah,” Ben says, a little breathless, and his hand reaches out and oh, he’s touching Jack’s arm. “Five years. We’ve been searching for you – trying to find you –”

“He’s here now,” Lily cuts him off with what Jack thinks is glare, but he doesn’t turn to look at her because the idea of even moving his head is painful. “He doesn’t need to know everything that happened between now and then, that’s – that’s too much right now.”

“Everything that happened,” Jack repeats, a wave of naseau going through him. “Um – I’d sort of like to – to know if anything _important –”_

It’s Sammy who cuts off his worries that time by taking Jack’s hand and clasping it around his own. He keeps moving, and Jack isn’t sure what’s going on until he looks down, and –

Oh. Sammy’s still wearing the ring that Jack gave him, last September – no, _five_ Septembers ago – but Sammy clasps Jack’s hand around the silver band all the same.

“Nothing that important,” Sammy whispers and Jack chokes back an unexpected sob of his own.

He’d been so worried, a lifetime ago, about Sammy realizing he was too much to handle. But Sammy hadn’t just stuck with him through thick and thin, he’d been there through everything – even absence. Five years of absence and no answers, and he was wearing a ring promising himself to Jack.

“I missed a lot of Christmases,” Jack finds himself latching onto as Sammy links their fingers together and squeezes. “We never got another cat.”

“We’ve got so many more Christmases,” Sammy leans even further into Jack’s side. “All the time in the world for cats.”

“House tigers,” Ben interjects, and Sammy groans.

Jack isn’t quite sure what that means, but – well, Sammy and Ben and Lily are all laughing, so he’s sure that it’s something good.

* * *

Jack is, at first, quite certain that the meowing he’s hearing is in his dream.

It’s a change of pace from his usual dreams, which involve pitch black darkness, a low cackle, and the sound of screams that are sometimes his own, so Jack’s ready and willing to take some cat-related dreams instead.

Maybe he’s dreaming about Lemon. There’s a pet psychic in King Falls, and Sammy says that he avoids her at all costs because he doesn’t want to hear about Lemon. Apparently she brings up Sammy’s childhood terrier often enough that it’s already traumatic for him.

The meowing does, eventually, wake up him from where he’s splayed out on the couch with his book half-open on his chest. He has a lot of difficulty concentrating for more than an hour at a time, but he’s determined to up his stamina. Right now that means reading, because Sammy won’t let him play rugby until the doctor clears him for it.

The meowing continues, faint and whining, and Jack realizes that it’s very much actually real, and likely coming from somewhere in the house.

He sits up on his elbows, cracking his neck in the way Sammy hates as he glances around the room. Ben and Emily are at Emily’s mom’s house for the afternoon, so it can’t be either of them who’s making the noise, or who found a cat to make the noise for them. Though Jack’s sure Ben could probably do a decent Sad Kitty impression if he wanted attention badly enough.

“Sammy?” Jack’s voice comes out a bit rough and not very loud, and he coughs a few times into his pillow. He falls asleep on the couch most days and usually Sammy will lay there with him, or in the armchair, or at the very least put a blanket around him.

Today, though, his husband is most definitely not in the living room, and Jack cranes his neck to see he’s not in the kitchen either.

They live in a house now instead of an apartment, so Jack can’t immediately see all of the spaces Sammy could possibly be. They closed on the mid-sized cottage six weeks ago and moved in a few weeks later – with Ben and Emily, obviously, because Jack would never insist on separating Sammy and Ben.

The house is on the edge of Sweetzer Forest, nestled just enough in the trees that Jack figures the incessant meowing could be a stray at the door, but it honestly sounds like the noise is closer than that. Besides, Jack can see through the glass front door from his place on the couch, and there’s no kitty sitting outside.

Jack makes himself sit up, even though it gives him a head rush. He thinks about texting Lily to see if she’d know what was up with the meowing, but she doesn’t actually live here even if she spends most of her time in the armchair opposite Jack.

_I’m not living in the communal couple house. I’d consider it purely for the lovely Miss Emily’s presence, but I think Katie might get jealous, so I’ll just live exclusively with my girlfriend like a normal person._

Lily had said it with a healthy dose of humor – Jack knows she’s secretly glad that he has three people in immediate proximity to make sure he doesn’t fall down a flight of stairs at any given moment.

He and Sammy have the room on the first floor anyway, so there’s not too much danger of falling. Jack still has, six months after being released from the hospital, very little actual coordination. Which is all kinds of frustrating, but he’s working on it every day.

He sends Sammy a text instead, because Sammy does actually live here – _I’m awake where’d you go –_ and isn’t within eyesight. Jack’s not worried, because Sammy likes to go on hikes in the backyard and also for some reason has been working in the garage the last couple days, but he’d rather know for sure where his husband is.

Husband’s a great word, one that Jack’s been using for the past two months as much as he possibly can. It’s his recompense for not being able to stand up for longer than two hours or so without feeling sick to his stomach.

Sammy doesn’t reply right away, and so Jack gets up on his own, which takes longer than he likes but at least he can manage it now. In the first week, he’d barely been able to open his eyes on his own.

The meowing gets louder, echoing slightly – actually, scratch that, it’s not an echo, that’s two distinct meows.

At least two distinct cats, if not more.

Jack walks toward the noise, which seems to be on the other side of the house. There are two floors – so maybe the cats are in the basement? But the noise doesn’t seem to be coming from beneath him.

Jack opens the door to the back patio. Ben and Emily are in the process of designing a really lovely backyard with hanging plants and rock paths, but right now it’s just a sturdy deck and a hot tub that came with the house that no one but Ben has used yet.

But the meowing gets much louder the second Jack steps outside. The house is positioned on a hill going upward from the yard, though Jack can’t see any cats hiding in the trees and shrubbery.

That’s when he notices the screen door to the garage is ajar, and a whining meow is followed by a quiet laugh that Jack immediately recognizes as Sammy’s.

There’s not anything solid to hold onto between the deck and the garage, but Jack rarely lets that stop him. He can deal with feeling a little lightheaded, and he’s never going to get back to his old self if he doesn’t push himself there.

It’s only been six months, as Sammy and Lily like to remind him with frowns and insistence on doing absolutely everything for him. Jack’s never been one to sit idle, though.

Besides, moving distracts him from thinking about pain, and Jack has quite a few too many memories of that keeping him up at night.

Jack stays quiet, not wanting to disturb anything, and squints in the dusty window of the garage before opening the door.

Sammy’s sitting on the floor, cross-legged, his hair out of his bun for a change and falling around his shoulders. Jack loves his hair now, despite the levels at which Ben and Lily will make fun of him for it. Sammy had always been too afraid to have long hair before King Falls.

Still, he usually wears it messily piled on top of his head unless he’s in bed, but it immediately becomes clear why he has it down when Jack sees not one, not two, but _three_ little kittens surrounding him on the floor.

Two of them are brown and black splattered, and one is orange, but they’re all no bigger than Sammy’s fist. The orange one is sitting in his lap, reaching up to bat incessantly at Sammy’s hair. Sammy’s laughing, and Jack can hear the joyful noise even through the closed door.

Jack takes a minute just to stand there, a little mesmerized. It’s almost painful, how happy Jack is right now. He never imagined he’d have any kind of life at all after – _after_ – but here’s his husband, sitting in a musty garage with three kittens in their house that they bought with their two best friends, with Lily living less than a mile away.

Jack slowly creaks open the door and Sammy nearly jumps in surprise.

“Just me,” Jack grins softly, and even though Sammy relaxes when he meets Jack’s eyes, there’s also an embarrassed look to them like he’s been doing something bad. “Did you make some new friends?”

“How long have you known about them?” Sammy asks a little shamefacedly. The three kitties all notice Jack, but only one of the brown ones hesitantly paws their way across the dusty floor to get to him. Jack kneels down to let it sniff his hand, and then the cat ducks under his fingers to nuzzle at Jack’s hand.

Jack very nearly gets choked up, and blinks a couple of times before turning his attention back to Sammy. “Since I woke up to the sound of meowing. How long have they been here?”

“Just since yesterday morning,” Sammy admits, focusing on petting the orange kitty in his lap rather than looking at Jack. “They started following me on my hike – I think their mom must’ve been eaten by a coyote or something.”

“Aww,” Jack scratches the cat who’s paying attention to him, who looks at him through bright green eyes. Jack probably wouldn’t be able to handle it if they were yellow. “Do Ben and Emily know about them?”

“Do you think Ben ever comes in the garage?” Sammy shifts a little, smiling at Jack.

“Well, I guess I should’ve figured this out sooner, since _you_ are hardly the most likely candidate to work in the garage –”

“Oh, shut up,” Sammy says, face turning a little pink. “You’re not either. The only one who could’ve discovered me is Emily, and she had the reading carnival yesterday. I just bought them a bag of cat food and gave them some t-shirts to sleep on, that’s all so far. I thought – well, I thought I’d find some way to tell you guys about them, and then –”

“Say _can we keep them, can we keep them, please_?” Jack teases, petting the brown cat one more time before fully crossing the room to Sammy, perching next to him so that he can put both of his arms around Sammy.

Sammy leans into him, making a somewhat pained sound. “Something like that, I guess!”

“Have you….” Jack bites his lip, trying to think of how to form this question without upsetting Sammy at the reminder of all they’ve gone through. “Have you had a pet at all? Since –”

“No,” Sammy says quickly, not in a defensive way, just mostly…well, _sad_. “Ben wanted to get me one, after – um – when I was at my lowest. But I told him no. I couldn’t imagine having a cat without you, Jack.”

“I would’ve understood,” Jack reassures him, but there is a part of him, even though he wishes it wasn’t there, that’s glad that Sammy didn’t just move on with everything with Ben. Jack loves Ben and is monumentally grateful for everything about Ben and his and Sammy’s friendship, but….it would’ve hurt, just a little bit, if they’d had a cat together. Jack would’ve gotten over it, but he would’ve felt a stab of jealousy over that.

Jack’s not jealous of much, when it comes to Ben – of course he wishes none of this had ever happened, but he can’t help but think it was meant to be every time Ben tackle-hugs Sammy.

Ben doesn’t tackle-hug Jack because he’s very concerned about hurting him, but Jack gets at least one careful hug per day, if not two or three or nine.

“I know,” Sammy rests his head against Jack’s. “But I wouldn’t have wanted to have another pet unless it was _ours_. Especially a cat. I still miss Lulu Lemon. Not nearly as much as I missed you, but –”

Jack can feel Sammy’s sharp inhale of breath about to turn into a little sob, and he turns to kiss Sammy’s jaw before he can get too emotional. “So how about you tell me what you named our three new kitties. Because I know you already have.”

He jostles their shoulders together, and it makes Sammy hiccup out a laugh. Watery one, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Well,” Sammy bites his lip. “The orange one is Daphne. And the girl brown kitty is Velma, and the boy brown kitty is Shaggy. And I thought – well, you’d talked about wanting a dog that you could go running with once you’re ready. So the dog could be Scooby.”

“What, no Fred?” Jack teases and Sammy wrinkles his nose.

“Fred’s an awful name, Jack. For a human or an animal. Way worse than _Lemon.”_

“Point taken,” Jack laughs. “I do think we need four pets, since there are four of us. The second everyone in the house was holding an animal but Ben, he’d mope for days.”

“Ben’s a metaphorical outdoor kitty who followed me home from a hike,” Sammy’s words are disgruntled even if his tone melts slightly as he pets Daphne. “But I really missed cat stuff. I’m gonna make them all homemade meals –”

Jack groans, not seriously, and Sammy smiles with a little bit of embarrassment but not much. “I bet you _anything_ that Ben will mistake a cat meal for his meal.”

“Oh, absolutely, at least once a week,” Sammy sighs fondly before he turns to Jack with a somewhat serious expression. “If you’re not ready for animals yet –”

“Baby,” Jack kisses Sammy’s cheek. “I am so, _so_ ready for animals. Also running. And rugby. And all the other things you don’t want me doing yet.”

“I’m just worried –”

“I know,” Jack kisses him again, grateful even when he’s slightly irritated at how difficult it is now to exist in the world when everything used to come so easy. “So it’s a good thing there are four whole people in this house plus our frequent houseguest in the form of my sister, plus every other friend you have on your endless amount of friends in this town –”

“They’re your friends, too,” Sammy reminds him a little forcefully. Sammy’s been very preoccupied, these past six months, with making sure Jack actually gets to bond with other people rather than just having the town like him because they like Sammy. Another thing that Jack’s grateful for on an ever-growing list.

“Plus, it’s just kitties,” Jack coos as he reaches out for the other brown cat – this one must be Shaggy – and he takes a few tentative steps in Jack’s direction before deigning to let Jack brush back his fur. “Nothing too stressful about kitties. We can wait a little on the dog if it would make you feel better.”

“Well, we have to clear it with Ben and Emily first –”

“I _really_ don’t think that’s gonna be a problem, unless you’re talking about Ben being jealous at all the attention they’ll get –”

“Oh, that’s for sure mainly what I’m talking about.”

* * *

Emily immediately takes to the cats, and makes an appointment at the vet for each of them to get their shots. She sits on the garage floor and the cats take to her just as quickly, and Daphne bats at her long hair, too.

Ben takes an hour or so to warm up to them, but then Velma crawls into his lap and he starts crying, so it’s a losing battle for him.

(Emily had come in the door with a delighted cry of “Oh, look at the baby kitties! I love them.”

Ben had followed her with a disgruntled sulk. “I’m baby kitties. Love me.”)

Sammy doesn’t want to scare the cats with an introduction to the house quite yet, so they decide that can be a tomorrow adventure. Jack runs inside to get a six-pack and the homemade cookies Sammy had made yesterday, and they sit on the garage floor with the cats all night.

They know for sure that Ben’s sold in the cats when he takes sheer delight when Jack and Sammy start reminiscing about Lemon.

“You called her by her wrong name, and therefore can never make fun of me for _my_ alternative names for animals ever again –”

“I had nicknames! For _my c_ at! I wasn’t calling the whole breed of cats Lemon Squares! It’s an entirely separate thing!”

Jack just watches them, laughing, leaning against his husband’s side as Shaggy bites his shoe.

He doesn’t think he’s been this happy in a long time.


End file.
